


gathered in my loose ends

by someitems



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someitems/pseuds/someitems
Summary: "Twenty-five used to be his deadline for marriage, back in the day. Back when twenty-five seemed impossibly ancient, back before he got so famous he couldn’t even go to the grocery store in Canada. Back when he still thought that he could someday feel about a nice girl even a tenth of what he felt when that one buff hockey guy was in the skate shop at the same time as him and they exchanged glances."Yuzu comes out, to the people that matter most.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 79





	gathered in my loose ends

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little something I've been working on while my big project wraps up (stay tuned!) Inspired by conversations with aromanticjungkook and others on Twitter, and the new sense of freedom Yuzu has been embodying this season, despite its difficulties.
> 
> Title from "You or Your Memory" by the Mountain Goats, and suggested by sophiahelix.

Yuzu has a list of people to tell. He intends to go through that list in order, before he turns twenty-five this year.

Twenty-five used to be his deadline for marriage, back in the day. Back when twenty-five seemed impossibly ancient, back before he got so famous he couldn’t even go to the grocery store in Canada. Back when he still thought that he could someday feel about a nice girl even a tenth of what he felt when that one buff hockey guy was in the skate shop at the same time as him and they exchanged glances. Yuzu’s older now, savvier and sadder and more battered, but also surer of what he wants. Marriage, maybe, but definitely not by twenty-five, not even if Japan made it legal that quickly. Twenty-five seems impossibly young now, like he’s only just begun to live. Really, what he wants is to be known, to be understood. To have some people in this frenzied world who see his true self.

So he makes a list of people to tell the truth to. “Coming out,” is what you call it in English—he knows this from overhearing Jeff’s conversations with David. And he’ll do it in these next few months, no chickening out. Twenty-five seems as good an age as any to do hard things. 

****  
Some people know already—not many. Jason apparently guessed, because the first day he got to the club, he high-fived Yuzu and shouted, “’94 gay solidarity,” a statement which took Yuzu a long time to decipher. Nobu thinks he’s bi, because they talk about celebrities they like sometimes, and Yuzu doesn’t have the patience to explain that he doesn’t like Yui Agaraki like _that_. Kikuchi-san somehow knows, because he knows everything, although he’s never said so in so many words—he just slips embarrassing little pamphlets about safe sex into Yuzu’s luggage. Saya figured it out because they made a pact when they were teenagers to help hide each other’s internet search history from their parents. 

Javi is the only person Yuzu’s ever actually told, using his words. It was right before Sochi, and Javi was dejected and glum, worrying about an interview where he’d spoken without thinking and said something he didn’t really mean.

“Everybody says it’s gonna be okay, but I’m like, how do you know?” Javi had whined to Yuzu. “Do you really think I’m hurting gay people? Although, I guess, how would you know either…”

“I’m gay,” Yuzu said, without thinking, and then clapped his hands over his mouth.

Javi looked at him intensely. “Do I hurt you?”

“Yes,” Yuzu said immediately.

They had a long, loud fight about quad salchows, training time, whether it was better to stay focused or stay relaxed, how much is too much teasing about someone else’s bad English when yours isn’t that much better, the merits of Japan despite its homophobia, the merits of Spain despite it not being Japan, and if it’s rude to kiss your girlfriend in front of other people who might never be able to kiss the people they like in public. At the end of it all, Yuzu was forced to admit that Javi’s crimes were mostly being thoughtless and not looking beyond his own perspective. 

Javi apologized about fifteen different times, until even Yuzu got sick of it, and he bought Yuzu tea from the cafeteria that was so bad Yuzu almost picked another fight with him. Yuzu thinks of that day as the day their friendship really started—the day they both realized they could trust each other no matter what. 

_i’m going to coming out_ he texts Javi, and then immediately deletes the message.

_amazing!!!! good for you!!!_ Javi sends back, and Yuzu laughs. Javi has to know it won’t be easy, but he’s always such an optimist.

****

His mom is first on the list. Yuzu’s always believed in doing the hardest thing first, getting it out of the way so the rest will seem easy by comparison. The unspoken words _I’m gay_ have felt like a gap between them, a crack in their usual closeness. He tells his mom everything else important, and everything unimportant too. Besides, if it doesn’t go well—Yuzu also believes in making contingency plans for the worst case scenarios—he’ll have some more things to add to what he says to the rest of his list. So he starts with his mom.

He makes her tea on Sunday morning, the bright summer sun streaming through the curtains and onto their little dining table. He sits her down, and she must see the worry in his face because her gaze immediately becomes probing, like she’s scanning for the source of his fear. 

“Mama, I have to talk to you about something I’ve never talked to you about before,” he starts, and registers the look of faint surprise on her face.

“What is it?”

Yuzu takes a deep breath, pausing as long as he can. “I’m gay, I like men,” he says all in a rush, and then closes his eyes, as if he’s bracing for a blow. There’s a silence that feels like it lasts for a hundred years.

“Yuzupon,” his mom says, her voice pure tenderness. Yuzu swallows hard, hearing that old childhood nickname. He opens his eyes and meets her steady gaze. It’s like the light coming in through the windows.

“I’m sorry you felt afraid to tell me this,” his mom says. It’s the first thing Yuzu would have said in this situation. They really are too alike sometimes. He nods his head automatically.

“You are the best son in the whole world,” his mom says firmly. “And I love knowing you. Every part of you.”

Yuzu swallows hard again, reaching out for her hand. She takes it, squeezing lightly.

“When I was your age, trying to have children, I didn’t know I would have a gay son who was a figure skating champion. But I couldn’t be happier to have you.” She smiles at him. “Have you known this about yourself for a long time?”

“Since I was really young, I think,” Yuzu says. “But it took me a while to stop hoping I was different.”

“Did I—“

“It wasn’t really you, Mama,” Yuzu says quickly. “It was—everything.” He knows she knows what he means.

His mom nods. “At least they’re not like that here at this rink.”

“I’m going to tell them, too,” Yuzu says. “I’m telling everybody that’s important to me this year.” 

“They don’t know already?”

“I’ve never told anyone, really,” Yuzu says. “I want to say it out loud. I want people to know for real.”

“Good for you,” his mom says. Her smile is blinding. There’s another silence between them, drained of tension, simply empty air.

“You can’t date any of these rude boys, though,” his mom says suddenly. “Some of those other athletes that you know, they don’t have any respect. You can’t bring a man like that into my house.”

“Mama!” Yuzu groans. 

“I’m serious, Yuzuru,” his mom says, and suddenly this is just another conversation they’re having, like the ones they have about his studies or the noise he makes while image training at night. “A man who can respect your parents is the only kind of man who’s worthy of your time.”

“Yes, Mama,” Yuzu says, feeling an enormous weight slide off his back, so suddenly and abruptly he might cry. 

“Is there anyone?” 

“Oh my god, Mama.”

“I’m just asking!” His mom folds her hands.

“The quad axel,” Yuzu says. It’s what he’s told her before. It’s always been true, but it feels better to say it, this time. Like he’s holding less of himself back.

“Seriously…”

“Seriously, I don’t have time for that yet. There are too many things I want to do first.”

His mom smiles at him ruefully. “Do you have room in your busy schedule to get your old mother another cup of tea?”

Yuzu rolls his eyes and gets to his feet, moving into the kitchen to pour more tea. His mom grabs his arm as he passes and pulls him into a brief, slightly clumsy hug. He leans his head on top of hers for a moment, breathing it in. The two of them are so close sometimes, it’s like Yuzu can feel what it was like when they were still one body, like his cells remember when they used to be hers. He kisses the top of her head, and then picks up her teacup.

****  
“You look like you have a lot on your mind,” Tracy says as she walks past the bench.

Yuzu startles. He does have a lot on his mind—namely, who he’s going to come out to next, and when. After telling his mom, he’d been worn out, like he’d skated for hours. He needed to play his Switch and pretend he didn’t have goals for a while. But it’s getting to the point now where he knows he needs to move down his list.

“Yeah,” he says.

Tracy sits down next to him. “Want to tell me about any of it?”

This is an opening from the universe, Yuzu decides. He takes hold of it. “Yeah, I have to—tell you something.”

Tracy’s brow furrows. Yuzu needs to figure out how to start these conversations in a way that doesn’t freak out everyone who cares about him. “What is it?”

“I want you to know that—I am gay,” Yuzu says. His heart pounds, inexplicably.

There’s a gentle smile on Tracy’s face now. “Oh, I’m so glad you told me, Yuzu. I’m very proud of you. That’s not easy to say, huh?”

Yuzu nods. “I am telling important people, this summer. I telling my mom first.”

Yuzu can see Tracy tense up, like she’s preparing to spring into action. “Did she take it okay?”

“Yes,” Yuzu says, and Tracy relaxes. “She is proud of me too.”

“And who wouldn’t be, eh?” Tracy says, squeezing his shoulder. “A wonderful person like you.” 

Yuzu looks down at his feet. He’s never sure what to say to stuff like that.

“We’ll do everything we can to support you,” Tracy says. “Whatever you need, just tell us. We want you to be who you are. That’s just as important as winning medals.”

Yuzu nods. “Don’t tell Brian, I will tell myself.”

Yuzu can’t figure out exactly what Tracy’s expression means. “Of course. It’s yours to tell, I’ll never tell anyone else.” She mimes zipping her lips. 

“Thank you,” Yuzu says, and finds himself reaching out, arms open. Tracy gives him a warm, firm hug, pressing him into her shoulder. 

“Take ten minutes and go get a snack,” Tracy says. “That’s an assignment. Then be back here for the rest of the session, okay?” 

Yuzu’s about to protest that he doesn’t need a snack, but when he catches Tracy’s eye, he sees her soft expression. She’s trying to give him a break, he realizes.

“Okay,” Yuzu says. He clunks into the lounge on his skate guards, heading for the water fountain. Once he’s taken a drink of water, he breathes in and out, long and slow. With every person he tells, it feels like breathing gets a little easier.

****  
Yuzu thinks long and hard about how to approach Ghislain. He doesn’t want to call a meeting, or say he has to talk, or anything like that. That’s not how they work together, and he doesn’t want to frighten Ghislain. He decides to wait for an opportunity, the way he seized the chance when Tracy wanted to talk. He’ll tell when the moment’s right. 

It’s a slow week, with a lot of people on vacation, so Ghislain is letting Yuzu practice the quad axel. They start with a lot of axel entries, slow and high—regular axel entries, not the back counter approach that Yuzu uses on his triple. “If you can land quad axel as much as you can land triple, I’ll let you go from the back counter,” Ghislain says, when Yuzu asks, so he doesn’t push it. Then they practice ways to rotate quickly, using momentum and body positioning. Finally, towards the end of the session, Ghislain lets him try a few quad axels. Yuzu falls on all of them. 

“That one looked like it hurt,” Ghislain says, skating over to help Yuzu up. “You okay?”

Yuzu nods. “Just bruises.”

“A lot of people would give up on a jump like that,” Ghislain says. “But you love it too much, eh?”

“My mom ask me if I’m date anyone, and I say, ‘quad axel,’” Yuzu says. 

Ghislain laughs uproariously. “Quad axel is your girlfriend?”

Here it is, Yuzu’s moment. “Boyfriend,” he says, and it feels like the word echoes off the ceiling and bounces around the ice.

But Ghislain doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh, sorry, boyfriend,” he says. “I didn’t know.”

“Lot of people don’t,” Yuzu says. “I am tell some people now. Mama, Tracy, now you.”

Ghislain pats Yuzu on the back of the neck, the way he does when Yuzu finishes his programs at competitions. _I love you, I’m proud of you. You did well._

“Why now?” Ghislain asks, after a little while.

Yuzu plumbs the depths of his brain, trying to figure out which of the many reasons he could explain in English. “I need to—be more free, this season,” he says finally.

“Oh, because of the lutz and the axel,” Ghislain says immediately. 

Yuzu cracks up. Of course Ghislain would understand the parts of this that other people wouldn’t—that the fewer secrets he has weighing him down, the higher he can jump. He knows it sounds ridiculous, but it makes sense to him. And, apparently, to Ghislain.

“What’s so funny?” Ghislain demands. “Is that right?”

Yuzu holds back another giggle. “Yeah, it’s right.”

“So do you want to try again? One more?”

“Okay, one more,” Yuzu says, and launches himself into the quad axel yet again. He falls again, but Ghislain just grins at him, and reaches out a hand to help him off the ice.

****  
“Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?” Brian asks Yuzu. They’re sitting in Brian’s office, Yuzu’s legs tucked under him in the squeaky rolling chair, having their weekly meeting. It’s something Brian instituted, a couple years back, to make sure they wouldn’t have any more communication issues. It doesn’t always work, in part because Yuzu doesn’t always tell him everything during the meetings, but it’s better than it was before.

“Yeah, I have one more thing to talk about,” Yuzu says. 

Brian leans back in his chair. “What’s up?”

It’s still nerve-wracking, even the fourth time, but Yuzu is determined to be bold. He holds Brian’s gaze steadily and speaks as calmly as he can. “I want you to know that—I am gay.” 

Yuzu watches Brian’s face crumple, and he’s not sure what’s happening for a moment until Brian bursts out laughing, huge guffaws that rock his shoulders and send papers fluttering off his desk. It lasts for a while, until Brian finally wipes his eyes and sighs. “Oh, man.”

Yuzu is utterly baffled. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” Brian seems to register Yuzu’s confusion. “Oh my god, Yuzu, did you think I didn’t know you were gay?”

Yuzu nods. “Tracy and Ghislain promise not to tell, when I tell them last week, so—“

“Last week? Jesus, Yuzu, practically the second you stepped inside this rink I knew you were gay. I thought you knew I knew.”

Yuzu’s head is spinning. “You really know that long? I don’t—I didn’t—think you know at all.”

“Why not?”

“I never tell anyone,” Yuzu says simply. He can’t resist adding, “You don’t know other thing when I don’t tell you.”

Brian starts laughing again. “You got me there.”

“How do you know?” Yuzu can feel a creeping dread starting. Telling people is one thing, but if everyone can figure it out… “Do you think everyone know?”

Brian sighs, running a hand through his hair. Then he leans back in his chair, the way he does when he’s about to start telling a story. “When I was your age, I was obsessed with an axel jump. I was trying my hardest to win gold medals. I loved flashy costumes that showed off my body. And I had a secret—that I was gay.”

Yuzu thinks about the videos he’s watched of a younger Brian, lanky and brash, his clean, sharp axel technique. They’ve always made him wish they could have competed in the same era. He hasn’t thought much about the other things he has in common with Brian.

“When you came to Cricket, even when you were just that nervous, skinny kid, I saw a lot of things in you that reminded me of myself. And especially, when you’ve had to keep some part of yourself secret, you get a sense for when other people are keeping a secret like that. It’s made me so happy to watch you grow into yourself over these years. I’m so glad you finally feel ready to tell some people you trust—shit, that’s what I should have said at first, instead of laughing at you. I’m proud of you, Yuzu, I really am.”

Yuzu feels the warmth wash over him that he always feels when Brian compliments him. This was harder than a free skate, but Brian still understood.

“Do I think that everyone knows you’re gay? No, I don’t,” Brian says. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. But I do think there are people who see you and see a little bit of themselves there, too. And that’s not something to be afraid of—that’s great.”

An image springs into Yuzu’s mind: Johnny Weir, ethereal and elegant, a mesmerizing image on the little television in his parents’ living room. The way the performance tugged at his heart, fitting together pieces he didn’t know were missing. _I can skate the way I want to skate, even as a boy._ It was years later that he learned Johnny was gay, too, that there was a connection between them in more ways than one. He thinks about other little kids, seeing themselves in his skating, and it brings a lump into his throat. 

“I try my best,” Yuzu says.

“I know you do,” Brian says, quickly and gently. “All you have to do is be yourself.”

Yuzu soaks this in, the soft expression on Brian’s face, the supportive words. 

“I wish we could competing together,” Yuzu says, the biggest compliment he can think to give. “You and me. I wish we can be rivals.”

“Oh, you think you’d be my rival, huh?” Brian says, and for a flash it’s like they are the same age, two athletes staring each other down. Then Brian chuckles. “Who am I kidding, I’m lucky I didn’t have to compete against you.”

Yuzu looks down at the desk, embarrassed. 

“You wanna tell me anything else?” Brian asks. “I promise I won’t laugh at you this time.”

Yuzu considers. “No. Just—thank you.”

Brian reaches across the desk to ruffle Yuzu’s hair. “Thank _you_. Now get out of my office, okay? I have some work to do.”

Yuzu sticks out his tongue and leaves the room. As he shuts the door, he can hear Brian whistling behind him, no melody, just notes. 

****  
Yuzu has a bunch of choreography sessions the following week, which means he gets very used to matter-of-factly telling people that he’s gay. Jeff squeals, a piercing sound that can probably be heard from space, and jumps up and down in his skates, grabbing Yuzu’s hand. He’s so happy to be told that it’s almost embarrassing, for a moment, before Yuzu enters into the joy of it and starts jumping up and down too.

Shae-Lynn nods sagely, gloved hand on her chin, and doesn’t say a single word until Yuzu has finished the monologue he didn’t mean to start, about being gay and admiring beautiful skating as a kid and the way Otoñal and Origin aren’t necessarily about this, except they kind of are. She has them skate it out together, something fluid and dreamlike that isn’t quite a step sequence. They don’t do any real work, just this kind of skating, until Yuzu’s told her for a second time, with the ice instead of words. “You let me know when you want to put that in a program,” she says, and Yuzu hugs her.

Yuzu tells David while they’re taking a water break, leaning on the boards. David swivels his head towards him and says, “Oh, honey,” chuckling slightly.

Yuzu’s not entirely sure what that means. “Do you know already?”

“Dear god, yes, remember when you told me you would literally die if you didn’t skate to Romeo and Juliet? No straight person would ever be that dramatic.”

Yuzu giggles. “Brian know, too. I didn’t know until I tell him, though.”

“What I wouldn’t give to have been a fly on the wall in _that_ conversation.”

Yuzu makes a mental note to look up “fly on the wall”. He learns more English expressions from talking to David than even the most advanced class would ever teach him. “Even if he know, I still tell him. Because it’s important for me to say.”

David squeezes his shoulder. “Good for you, kiddo.”

And just like that, Yuzu comes to the end of his list. He might want to tell more people later, but these were the big ones, the ones who he relies on to know him best. He feels like he’s been let out of class early, not sure what to do with himself. 

It’s another bright, steamy August day. Yuzu walks outside where the picnic tables are. He sits down and lets the humidity overwhelm him, soaking warmth through his skin. A pigeon lands on the table next to him, then flies away. He stares into the distance, at the blue sky, the huge white clouds piled up like snowdrifts. He expected to feel different, but he doesn’t, really. Just a little looser, a little more relaxed. Like there were muscles tensed around his heart, and he finally let them go. 

_What comes next?_ he asks himself. He always needs another goal, another place to go. He stares at the sky and the pigeons and the splintering wood of the picnic table, trying to figure it out. Maybe this is what comes next, he decides eventually. Just—being alive. Without pressure, without weight, as his whole self. He tips his head back, sunning his face, and it feels like he’s taking a starting position, readying himself to skate a program. He doesn’t really know the choreography, but he can already tell—it’s going to be good.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at someitems.tumblr.com or on Twitter @someitems.


End file.
